


And Resolve

by casstayinmyass



Category: 1776 (1972), 18th Century CE RPF, American Revolution RPF
Genre: Abigail Is The Real MVP, Bisexual Male Character, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Gay Panic, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Period Typical Attitudes, Romance, Sexual Confusion, Sexual Experimentation, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-25 02:05:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9797621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casstayinmyass/pseuds/casstayinmyass
Summary: John worries over a look he shared with Jefferson. Abigail reassures her husband it's only natural.





	

"Good God! I can't seem to get a break. First the half wits in Philadelphia, now this!" John Adams paced back and forth in front of his Boston home, glaring at the evening sky.

"What is it now, John?" Abigail asked, stepping down from their front porch and coming to sit beside her husband. "You're finally home with your wife and your children... surely you can postpone your daily piddling and twiddling until after supper?" John seemed to tense a little at the mention of 'after supper', and Abigail became curious. "Hmm... Congress again, John?"

John swallowed, furrowing his brow. "I... yes, yes, it's... it's always Congress."

"Is it, now?" Abi raised an eyebrow. "You see, I've come to realize your fits of self deprecation can easily be passed off as congressional troubles."

There was a pause, and Abigail waited for her husband to once again deny it... but he just heaved a sigh, his small shoulders sagging in uncharacteristic defeat. "Am I certainly that transparent, madam?" he asked with a loaded stare, and Abigail offered him a smile.

"Terribly, my darling. Now tell me- what has you shouting off this time?"

John looked down again. "Well... you see Abigail... it is... merely a matter of..." he fiddled with his cuff a little, and Abi thought to make light of the situation.

"I thought Mr. Jefferson was the one to fiddle," she teased, patting his errant hand, and John once again tensed, peculiarly.

"Violin," he choked out, voice cracking, "He plays the ehm... er... the violin, madam." After an even longer pause, he quickly added, "For his wife. His dearest, loveliest Martha."

Abigail studied her husband. She knew him better than he knew himself, and she knew he was not one to lose confidence in anything... unless it was something he was truly terrified of, like being polite to Dickinson or walking in on Franklin with two French  
girls. (An afternoon to remember, indeed).

"Have you come down with something, my love?" Abigail asked, grazing his forehead with the back of her hand, "You work and think yourself into the ground, I wouldn't be surprised." John closed his eyes, revelling in the cool, soft touch of his wife... his wife, whom he loved with all his heart, and wanted to feel all over until his last breath, her soft brown locks and long eyelashes, only her _... then curly red hair, sunny freckled skin, tall, thin, handsome, strong, that lazy southern drawl that would have him on his back faster than damned Congress would declare independence-_

"You're sweating John, perhaps I should call a doctor-"

"No! No, not a doctor... I fear I am coming down with something, but..." he swallowed again, halting what had become a verbal diuretic and looking down, "Abigail, listen to me. I love you. To the ends of the earth and back, my dearest friend. I think you are beautiful, you are the only lover I would ever take."

"John, for God's sake, you're frightening me! What is this all about?!"

"It's about the damn Virginian!" John blurted bitterly, then when he realized he must explain at this point, sighed heavily, rising up and pacing once more. "It _is_  a congressional matter, but... not a political one, my dear... it is the matter of the infuriatingly mute man lounging behind the desk with the name placard entitled, Virginia!"

Abigail frowned. "You and Thomas get along fine, John... Unless you've gone and done something else to get on your only other friend's nerves, that I'll have to write the poor Jeffersons about and apologize for-!"

"No, no, Abi, we're not squabbling, and I haven't set a disturbance," John dismissed, "quite the contrary... you see," the Massachusetts delegate looked up at his wife hesitantly, before slowly carrying on, "Before I left to come back here and see you and the children, I shared a stare with Mr. Jefferson. It wasn't the first one of its kind, but it was different- even more intense I daresay, a deep, searching stare. One that..." he swallowed again, pulling at his cravat uncomfortably, "One that is reserved for..."

"Lovers," Abigail finished with a knowing nod. John gaped at her.

"M-Madam... I-"

"Save your breath, John, no need to explain," Abigail chuckled, and got up as well to take her shocked husband's arm and walk with him through their field. "You and Thomas..." she started off thoughtfully, "Simply wish to try a taste of the forbidden fruit, if you will."

"Madam, I wish to taste _no_ such thing-"

"Quiet John, I'm not done. Don't think I don't know how long you men stay out there in that blistering hot building, toiling away over books and working hard-"

"Debatable."

"- _Working hard_ for our government, you harder than any! For you to..." she searched for the right words, " _Want_ , another man in the bedroom, is only natural."

"Hush hush, I could get hanged for such a thought, someone will hear!" John hissed. Abi just waved her hand.

"Nobody's around to hear but chickens and cows, and I'm sure they concern themselves with less petty matters. See, dearest... if nobody is around to hear, why should you deny yourself the relief?"

John's eyes widened, and he shifted slightly. "Are you suggesting that... that I act on these ludicrous... _sinful_ impulses?!"

"It's _sinful_ and just plain foolish to suffer all day and night when you don't need to," Abi huffed, and John shook his head quickly, adamantly.

"Perhaps Jefferson was just... gazing fleetingly, and was too exhausted to realize what his eyes looked like! Yes, that's it, I'm putting far too much stock into something and over complicating again."

"The eyes are the window to the soul, John, and I'm sure our dear Mr. Jefferson would love nothing more than a good, satisfying-"

" _Madam_!"

"Sleep, John, sleep," Abi finished with a wicked smirk, and John watched her out of the corner of his suspiciously narrowed eyes.

"You simply find yourself quivering at the idea, don't you?"

"Oh, this isn't about me, John. I only want what's best for you." She inclined her head a little. "Though I am not opposed to inviting Mr. Jefferson over for dinner, dear... oh, the fun we could get up to, things no one would ever know about but the three of us. It's _natural_ , John. Now that's enough fretting for one night."

"Abi, Abi, Abi," John whispered, plunking himself down in the grass again and shaking his head, "My dearest, I haven't the slightest clue what I would do in your absence."

"You would carry on as the headstrong, brilliantly beligerant visionary I married without hiccup," she retorted, kissing him on the cheek, "Albeit a maddened version." John looked to the side, and turned it into a real kiss, capturing Abigail's lips against his own in a long, loving kiss that conveyed every unspoken sentiment between them.

"I'll never stop loving you for another," John murmured, "No matter how strongly I burn, I am fond of you forever, I wish you to know that."

"I already do, my love," Abigail smiled warmly, "But sometimes, there's room enough in our hearts to love more than one. Lord knows your affections could use a little dusting off."

The couple connected their foreheads, then turned back to look up at the stars together, hand in hand.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my god, did someone actually read this? Hey! You're cool, and 1776 is a small fandom, so follow me on tumblr: headoverhiddles 
> 
> xxx


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